


Late night printing

by evil_ontheinside



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26958973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_ontheinside/pseuds/evil_ontheinside
Summary: The first time they meet is in their local Konbini somewhere around two in the morning.Day two of SunaOsaWeek - Prompts: First/Last; Konbini; Foxes
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52
Collections: SunaOsa, SunaOsa Week 2020





	Late night printing

**Author's Note:**

> It started with just using the Konbini prompt but I somehow ended up in using all of them to some extend. I hope you enjoy this and overlook the fact that I have no idea what you actually do in culinary studys or photography.
> 
> If you find any big mistakes please let me know, I'm trying to improve my english before uni starts so feedback is appreciated :)
> 
> You can talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/EOntheinside?s=08) if you want
> 
> **First/Last; Konbini; Foxes**
> 
> Background Characters: Kurosu Norimune (for like two seconds), Miya Atsumu (mentioned)

The first time they meet is in their local Konbini somewhere around two in the morning. Osamu working the nightshift as he does most of the time, too occupied with his culinary studies to work at any other time of day. His shifts are pretty normal. The customers are people you expect to be there; college students, drunks, travellers, people who work late into the night. Nothing out of the ordinary. Neither is the person that catches Osamu’s attention and he can’t explain why he still feels different.

He starts coming in the middle of Osamu’s second year in college. He has found a routine in his studies combined with his job and over all settled into his college life. He barely sees his roommates, either he is at work, listens to a lecture, experiments in the campus kitchen or sleeps. He is glad that his earliest lecture starts at ten, the only reason he is actually able to work during the late evening and into night without passing out in the middle of class or dropping his head into a pot with boiling water.

One night the door opens to reveal a man around his age, dark brown hair flat on the left front side while it stands up in every direction on the rest of his head. A laptop pressed to his chest, his eye bags deeper than anything Osamu has ever seen. He goes straight to the printer, which is located on the other end of the counter Osamu is standing behind. The man wastes no time in positioning his laptop and connects it to the printer with a cable he brought with him. Osamu observes him out of the corner of his eye, not sure why he can’t look away or ignore him like he does with most people that enter the store until they stand in front of him to buy something.

He sees the other tapping at his screen a few times, typing something faster than Osamu could ever imagine to be at typing before the printer beeps faintly only audible due to the quiet in the store and starts printing with a steady rhythm. Osamu stops observing to concentrate on the pages he has to read for his next lecture, assuming everything will go just as it usual. They come in, print something and are out of the store in the blink of an eye, sometimes with a quick greeting and or goodbye, though he doesn’t expect it from this one, he has been completely silent up till now. Well, normally they don’t come in around at two in the morning to print something but Osamu is willing to ignore that fact.

He manages to read two words before his eyes lock on the man, this time full on staring. Instead of leaving as he is supposed to, he starts tapping at his screen again a soft mumble coming from his direction, brows furrowed before the printing starts again. He sees the other sigh and notices his hunched over position. His posture is complete shit.

The process repeats itself three more times; Osamu trying to read, his eyes flicking over to the other man, him looking at the print while mumbling and tapping at the screen again. When the printer works for the fifth time the man moves away from it and to the aisle with the beverages, disappearing behind the shelves. Osamu can’t help but wait with anticipation, asking himself what the stranger does right now, what he has been doing the last ten minutes and what he will do next.

Some of his questions get answered when a cup with iced coffee is dropped at the register. “Ain’t it a bit late for coffee?” Osamu surprises himself by starting a conversation and focuses on scanning the article. “And cold,” he adds while pointing at the amount of money portrayed on the display. “Not if it wakes me up,” he gets as an answers in a monotone voice, the man hands over the right amount of money, takes his coffee and retreats to the printer. He prints three more times before letting out a frustrated groan, takes his stuff and makes his way to the door. Osamu can’t help himself, says “have fun pullin’ an all-nighter” and earns an unimpressed stare out of those green-yellow eyes for his effort. He sees the stranger dispose of his now empty coffee cup at the trashcans in front of the store and watches him until he is out of sight.

“What the hell?” he asks himself as soon as he becomes aware of what he just did and forces his attention on the reading he has to do. Half an hour later his co-worker arrives and he makes his way home at three in the morning, still thinking about the completely ordinary guy he can’t get out of his head. “What the fuck,” he says again before entering the apartment and dropping dead on his bed.

He returns the next day.

Osamu does not know what to do.

It’s around two in the morning again, his hair is in the same state as it had been the day prior and he repeats what he did yesterday. Printing, looking, tapping, repeat, all accompanied by constant mumbling. Osamu tries to focus on his own work (writing an essay about the usage of eggs might not have been his best idea yet but he isn’t allowed to write about rice anymore) and fails miserably because his eyes keep on drifting to the brown haired man again and again. After a few prints the stranger leaves for the beverages again, returning with the same coffee as the day before. His eye bags look worse than they had yesterday.

“So, did ya sleep yesterday?” Osamu asks and is confused about himself again. Why does he keep asking questions when he never did that before? “Do I look like I did?” He gets a deadpan stare in return. “Nah, just wanted ta know if I was right.” The stranger rolls his eyes. “Yes, you were right. Don’t you have a job to do?” He gestures to his coffee and Osamu just then realises that he hadn’t moved to scan the article. “D’ya regret it?” He moves slowly, wanting to stall time, to expand their conversation that is sure to end as soon as the man has paid for his coffee. “I regret most things in life.” The beep of the scanner makes Osamu realise that he doesn’t know why he wants to talk to the other. “Why are ya doin’ it again then?” He points to the register display and gets handed the right amount of yen just like the day before. “Why are you asking?” Despite holding the coffee he doesn’t move away immediately. Osamu feels strangely encouraged by that.

“Why are ya dodgin’ my question with 'nother?”

“Why are you avoiding my question on your question with one of your questions?”

Osamu frowns, his head is way too tired to deal with this bullshit. “’cause I’m curious. Now you.” The brown haired man pops off the lid of his coffee without breaking eye contact. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.” With those words he returns to the printer, sipping his coffee and continues to work on whatever he is doing, unlike Osamu. He can’t help but stare, only averting his eyes when the stranger makes his way out again, this time waving a hand before stepping through the door, Osamu scrambles to return the gesture. What the hell is happening?

Three days in a row. Osamu notes down the new record for the same person entering the store on repeat during his shift. Not even people whose shifts end in the night come by more than two days in a row, they have that much dignity left. But there he is again, same as the two days before. Osamu decides to skip the whole process of waiting for the stranger to buy his coffee to talk to him and already opens his mouth when the other speaks first. “Yes, three in a row. I don’t need your comments.” Osamu smirks and raises his arms in surrender. “Why d’ya thought I wanted ta say anythin’? Was jus’ yawnin’.” He hears the other huff and a mumbled ‘sure you were’ as he makes his way over to the printer again.

After a few seconds Osamu decides to break their routine (if you can call it a routine after two days) even further than the other had by speaking to him first and moves to the printer, still standing behind the counter.

“Why d’ya keep usin’ the printer? Don’t ya have one of yer own?” He leans on the counter, head resting in his right palm while looking at the stranger. “I do. But it’s empty. The ink I mean.” He is tapping at the screen again and Osamu wishes he could see what the other is looking at. “Why didn’t ya buy new one?” Green-yellow eyes flicker in his direction, one eyebrow raised. “Do I look like I have time to do anything other than college, working and sleeping during the day?” The printer starts working again and Osamu impatiently waits, hoping to get a chance to look at whatever is being printed right now. “Guess ya do look more dead every time I see ya. And that’s only the last two days.” The other man offers him the fakest smile Osamu has ever seen before grabbing the paper.

It’s a bunch of foxes. Nine in total all spread out over the picture in various positions but all looking in the direction of the viewer. The forest around them looks ominous, not a single other animal around them, mist hovering around the ground, sunlight either not visible through the tree branches or covered up by clouds in the sky.

The fox in the centre of the frame has white fur, only around his head are black spots and brown eyes with an intense stare. Two others are sitting side by side, heads turned in different directions. They sport similar brown eyes, black fur specked with grey for one and yellow for the other. Another is lying on the ground not far away as if sleeping if not for his yellow-green eyes open with an intelligent stare. A fox with brown fur and gold-brown eyes sits near the white fox, another with big ears and dark thin eyes only a few steps away from him. In the back a black fox with dark eyes stretches his front legs out to the front, snout pulled into something resembling a grin. A sandy coloured fox with fur sticking up like spikes from his head and greyish-green eyes stands facing the two sitting next to each other though not actively looking at them, while the last one sits near the one lying on the ground, looking relaxed with light brown fur. Osamu corrects himself as he sees another fox-head sticking out behind a tree, black fur and a somehow serious look in his dark, big eyes. The foxes’ eyes are so intense that Osamu feels like they stare directly into his soul.

“That’s a really cool picture. What d’ya need it for?” He is still staring at the picture; he can’t take his eyes of it. “Project. My professor wants us to make a portfolio so I decided to use these foxes as my main focus.”

“Ya took this picture?” Osamu is more surprised than he probably should be. He doesn’t know the man, he could be a professional photographer for all he knows, though it’s obvious that he is still in college. And takes incredible pictures of foxes in mysterious forests apparently. “Yes? I don’t know if I look that lazy but I wouldn’t put other people’s pictures in my own portfolio.” Osamu isn’t sure if that is supposed to be an offended look, seeing that his facial expression barely changed but shakes his head until his vision gets a bit blurry anyway. “I jus’ can’t believe someone would’ve taken such a picture. Looks straight outa some fantasy movie. How d’ya manage ta make their eyes glow like that?” When he looks up from the picture again he can see a faint smile on the others face, though it’s gone soon after. “It’s called editing, ever heard of it? Why do you think I’m printing this for the fifth time now? I need to see what it looks like printed and not just on the screen.”

Osamu knows close to nothing about photography but he assumes that not everything can be done with editing. Which brings him to his next question.

“Wait. How d’ya get those foxes ta stay like that?” He expects a smug grin from the other, telling him how amazing he is at taking pictures but only finds a smile again accompanied by a frown. He must have hung out with his brother too much lately. “I actually have no idea. I just went to take pictures of the forest but those foxes seemed to somewhat pose. That’s why I can make them my focus because I got a lot of really good pictures of them. Guess I was just lucky.” Osamu is sure you need at least some skill to pull off a picture like that but he says nothing, sure his amateur opinion isn’t wanted.

“When d’ya have ta hand it in?” “Next week.” The printer starts again when the door opens. A customer. Osamu had forgotten other people still exist. He reluctantly returns to the register, waits until the man comes back with an energy drink and a premade bento and takes his money. When he looks back to the brown haired man, his head leans against his left hand, pressing down the hair in the front. That’s how his hair turns out like that, Osamu thinks and smiles to himself. He stays behind the register, waving again as the stranger leaves, this time with quickly raising his hand before rushing out. He didn’t buy coffee this time.

Fourth day in a row. No one will ever break this record. “Hello my favourite cashier.” You would imagine a happy and upbeat voice when reading this sentence but the brown haired man says it with his usual deadpan voice. “D’ya know a lot of cashiers?” The other smirks and shakes his head, placing his belongings by the printer again, Osamu follows immediately this time. “Then that ain’t a complement.” A smirk makes its way on the other's face. “Just because you automatically have to be my favourite cashier because I don’t know any others doesn’t mean I have to say it.” Osamu smiles and watches the other tapping at the screen again.

“How come ya always come ‘round at two in the mornin’?” When the college student meets Osamu’s gaze before shrugging, he notices that his eye bags look a little less deep than the day before.

“Ya slept yesterday.” The other, who was already looking at his screen again, looks up again, surprise on his face for only a second before it morphs back into his bored expression which seems to be his neutral face. Osamu feels a pleasant feeling in his chest every time he manages to change it.

“I did. Do I look less dead than the last two days?”

“Three days. And yeah, ya look a little less like a zombie.”

He pauses in his movement. “Wait, it’s Thursday? Already?” Osamu isn’t sure if he should laugh or be concerned. “It’s Friday.” The other man closes his eyes for a second than pulls at his hair while groaning. “Seriously? How did that happen?” He sighs long and dramatic before furiously tapping at the screen again, the printer starts. “Well, ya still have three days.” He pauses again. Blinks a few times. “Right. Three days. It’s two in the morning. I still have the whole Friday.” His tapping gets slower again and his face relaxes a little. Osamu relaxes as well, only now realising that he had tensed up in the first place.

They stay silent for a while, the printer’s rhythm the only thing breaking the silence. Osamu looks at today’s picture. It’s one of the foxes, the one with white fur and intense brown eyes staring directly into the camera, a ray of sunlight hitting him like a spotlight. He isn’t sure if the light is edited or natural. “How much money d’ya spend her already?” The other hums in thought while tapping at the screen. “Too much. I’m buying new ink after class tomorrow- today.”

Osamu feels a pinch in his chest at those words realising a moment later that it’s regret. “Guess ya can fix yer sleepin’ schedule then.” The man hums again and Osamu decides to return to the register to taking a look at his own classwork. He doesn’t notice the other leaving this time.

Friday night is slow. It’s normally one of the busier nights with young people stopping by before or after a party, buying drinks or already drunk. But not this Friday. Osamu had looked forward to the busy night, less time thinking about the stranger and how he wouldn’t come around anymore to print his fox photographs with his weird hair, bored stare and intense green-yellow eyes. But it’s not busy so Osamu thinks. The whole time, reading the same sentence of his course work over and over again without knowing what it actually says. His eyes start closing again and again until his head hits the counter.

“Miya, move yer ass! Yer shift’s over!” Osamu jolts awake at the sudden voice of his boss and nearly knocks his computer off the counter. “Sorry Kurosu-san.” He grabs his belongings and stuffs them in his bag as he notices a piece of paper lying on the counter in front of him. He puts it in his bag as well, must be one of his papers. He is already half way home when he remembers that he didn’t bring any papers with him.

He stops abruptly and fishes the piece of paper out of his bag. It’s a picture of one of the foxes. Black and grey fur a bit ruffled by a breeze, sitting on a tree stump, looking into the distance with grey-brown eyes. Osamu smiles without noticing and turns the paper around, revealing curvy somehow artistic looking characters.

“If you want to you can see my zombie face again, cashier-san.” Numbers are written under the text, cleanly as if to make sure Osamu couldn’t read them wrong as well as a name. Suna. Osamu’s smile widens.

Maybe they had seen each other the last time at his nightly shift in the konbini but that doesn’t mean they will never see each other again. And Osamu will make sure of that.


End file.
